Rookies
by Digolgrin
Summary: The year is 1944. The Allies are preparing for its largest assault yet on Fortress Europe. A force of over 150,000 men stands ready to liberate France from the Third Reich. Dusty and her old sled team are part of the even smaller number of dogs, themselves set to take part in the invasion alongside the paratroopers-and that number is about to get bigger. Friendly Dusty x Kodi.


**A/N:** **I'm aware that the whole 'Balto in World War II' thing has been done... pretty much to death. That might be an exaggeration (in fact, I'm pretty sure it is) but I feel like it's pretty common-at least out here in this obscure neck of the woods. However, as a history nerd, I feel duty-bound to provide at least one offering, and, well, this little one-shot is it-although its main characters (save Kodi and Jenna) first appeared in Balto III and not in the original film, so there's that little twist, I suppose.**

 **A little background: This was inspired by two pieces of art created by ~WolfDog-ArtCorner on deviantArt. I know I shouldn't bring my other online personas into this place, as screwed up as that is, but I feel as though I wouldn't be honest if I didn't disclose my influences, so there you go.**

 **Read and review-although as Lithos Maitreya once said, solicitation of reviews isn't exactly the kind of practice an author really wants to get into.**

 **Only gonna say this once: I do not own the Balto license-that would be Amblin Entertainment-nor do I own the name of Boyd Travers, Dusty's handler in this story, as I'm assuming that belongs to Electronic Arts. The Medal of Honor fans that might stumble upon this will know what I'm talking about.**

 **Rookies**

Like it or not, Dusty had to admit, this was by far the biggest airstrip she'd ever been on. Not even in the States could she find one so buzzing with life and activity. The war had brought so many men and so much equipment together that she could hardly believe this place had ever been anything but a godforsaken firebase. Her senses had been so overwhelmed with all the new stuff that, within hours, she'd learned to keep her nose and ears to herself.

This was nothing like home. Sure, this wouldn't _be_ her 'new home' for long, not with a war on, but... where were the kids, hmm? Where was the sled she was so used to? And what was up with all this gasoline in the air?

She hardly even had time to ponder these questions-just because it always felt like she was needed _somewhere_ at every corner. Drills, exercise, the occasional hike... How was a girl supposed to eat, if she was moving around all the time? This whole 'Warwolf' thing was starting to wear on her nerves.

"In here, Airborne!"

"That means you, Dust, c'mon!"

There were a couple things in this new life that made it all worth it, though: Her unit, the Warwolves, and jump day.

In the rush of wartime preparations, it was generally hard to tell how often this day came around. In fact, by now she'd lost count of how many jumps she'd performed, although she was sure it wasn't very much. The routine on these days seemed pretty simple; get out of bed, find Travers, her handler-no time to sit around and wait for food-follow him and the 'stick' to the assembly area, get her parachute, spend as much time with the other Warwolves as she could, then jump her heart out 'til the cows came home-so Travers had put it-or until the stick itself couldn't jump anymore, whichever came first.

As the husky ducked into the tent, her nose dove right to the floor; her handler shouldn't have gotten too far, she just saw him going in. Hopefully he hadn't lost track of her either, in all this orderly chaos.

"Dammit, Travers, where are you...?"

A bout of hearty laughter answered that question. "I'm right here, Dusty, where do you think you're goin'?" _Travers._

So she simply turned herself around. There, in front of her eyes, was Corporal Boyd Travers, her assigned handler. Each Warwolf had one in the regular Army-something of a temporary owner-although their combat duties generally came before tending to the dog.

She knew he wouldn't comprehend her words-it was an unwritten law of nature that the language of dog could not be understood by man-but still she gave a happy bark in greeting.

Travers kneeled down to her level and gave her a healthy scratch under the neck-something she wouldn't have gotten on the job back home. Thus came a familiar question: "Ready to fly, Dust?"

Dusty gave the familiar response: Two barks, right in his youthful face. "Yes, sir!", in her language.

"Atta girl," he laughed, even as the jumpmaster loomed over them, having already retrieved her parachute and gear. "Let's get you hooked up."

Dusty didn't care very much for this part-unfortunately, she couldn't get her parachute on by herself, so she had to rely on Travers and the jumpmaster, whose name she hadn't bothered to learn, to help her with it-but once all the rather uncomfortable work of helping her hind legs through the straps and tightening the pack around her chest was done, she was finally ready.

Now, the assembly area tent didn't have a mirror, but just because she couldn't see her reflection didn't mean she couldn't appreciate herself with her own eyes. This parachute had been designed specifically for her, and no one else; it fit snugly around her belly-thanks, Travers!-and was held to her back by two straps linked directly to her specialized Warwolf collar. On its left side was emblazoned the mark of the proud Airborne division of the United States Army, the same insignia on the sleeves of her handler and the rest of her 'chalk', and now the mark worn by her old sled team, Warwolves in and of themselves. She couldn't have been prouder to bear this weight on her shoulders, and now she was ready to go.

By the time Travers had finally let her out of his sight, the now-familiar drone of the American transport planes filled the air. Some were already airborne, carrying supplies to the base-some dog food would be nice right about now-or ferrying chalks of their own up to the sky. Dusty recognized her own plane on sight, still parked on the ramp, although by now the pilots were certainly looking it over and ensuring it was ready for takeoff.

However, this time, Ralph and Kirby weren't there to meet her. She could already see them boarding their planes, handlers not far behind them-it was impossible to miss the larger pack Ralph wore, and their planes were usually parked right next to each other. At first glance, she would have figured this would be a lonely first jump.

But then her eyes drifted back towards the tent, and she smiled in amusement. There, talking with his similarly-colored mother, Jenna, was Kodi, the last remaining member of her sled team-and he was actually wearing a parachute! She almost wanted to laugh at the irony, but found herself holding back her mirth; if Kodi really was joining the Airborne, the last thing he'd want to hear is someone getting a laugh in at his expense.

So instead she gave Jenna a subtle wink to grab her attention, and waited for the conversation to hastily wrap itself up as Kodi gave Jenna a farewell nuzzle; he was along in no time after that.

"Aren't you a little big to be a paradog?" were the first words out of her mouth as he drew closer. It was true; the parachute he was wearing looked a _bit_ too small on him. She hoped his harness hadn't been done up too tight.

"Shut up," said Kodi, rolling his eyes out of embarrassment. "This is the biggest 'chute they had. I'm not complaining."

She giggled at this as they began to walk down to the aircraft parking ramp. Kodi had spent the last couple months or so helping out in the medical corps, alongside his para-medic mother and eventual front-line medic father; every time she had tried to encourage him to join the Airborne, like her sister Aleu, who was set to deploy with the pathfinders, he refused, telling her he fit better there than in the Army. So this had come as a bit of a surprise. "So, this is your first jump, then?"

Kodi stopped for a moment to take in this realization. "Yeah," he replied after a bit, "but it isn't that bad, right? I mean, I see you and Ralph do it all the time, and my Mom says it's easier than it looks."

Dusty didn't quite know what to say to that. On one paw, it sounded like he had everything under control, which was great news for a first-timer, but on the other... Well, now that she looked at him, his eyes seemed to betray both his fear and the facade he put on for his friend. His words just didn't seem real.

Besides, overconfidence would only make things worse. Pride only comes before the fall, after all, and up there, that could ruin his whole day. She had to say _something_ , but what?

Dusty took one long deep breath as her words-hopefully the right words-formed in her mind. "Did she really?" were the first out of her mouth.

"Well, yeah," came the reply, as he shrugged his shoulders. "It's literally just walking out of a door into the sky; 'chute opens automatically and you're perfectly safe!"

"All that, and you still haven't tried it 'til now?"

"Of course not!" Kodi replied. "It's my first jump, remember?"

"Right, of course," Dusty mumbled, watching as Kirby and Ralph's planes coughed and sputtered to life and individually taxiied their way to the runway. "I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into, that's all."

"Into... Into what?" the red husky asked. Now his voice had given into the fear that held his psyche hostage.

Dusty sighed, cursing Jenna under her breath for not reminding her own son of the dangers. "There's more to being a paradog than jumping out of airplanes, Kodi," she began. "We'll literally have to parachute into combat."

She looked Kodi in the eyes. "There'll be a lot of people that won't want us to touch the ground. Doing it here is safe, but not on the battlefield."

At this, the red husky looked away, as if deep in thought-his ears drooping to the side. "You're right," he admitted, "but it's not that I'm scared of."

Dusty then leapt in front of him, as if to block his path. "Then why did you say it isn't so bad?" she asked candidly.

"I just think I can do it, that's all," Kodi answered. "But I don't know how I feel about heights; what if I freeze up and I _can't_ jump?"

Dusty sighed exasperatedly. What was it with rookies and changing their minds so frequently? "You won't freeze up," she answered. "You have a parachute; that's always encouragement enough for Kirby. But if that's your problem..."

She stole a quick sideways glance at her plane, just to see how much time she'd have-spoiler alert, not much-before returning to her answer. "Listen, I don't have much time, so I'm only gonna say this once: When the time comes, just follow the guy in front of you. Your legs'll do the rest. Don't stop, don't think; just jump."

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Kodi countered. "I'm literally going to be jumping out of an airplane; I can't not think about that!"

The brown husky's mouth opened to answer, but Travers' whistling caught her attention. "Hey, Dusty! Let's go, come on!" A quick glance behind her revealed that she'd wasted a bit too much time; her chalk was already being loaded onto the plane, and she knew for a fact they weren't going to leave without her.

She cursed under her breath before running off to join them. "Sorry, I've gotta go!" she called back. "Just remember; don't stop, don't think!"

"Wait!" she heard Kodi call, but by then she was on board; she didn't want to waste any more time than absolutely necessary.

As the jumpmaster conducted final roll call and the plane's engines sputtered to life, Dusty squirmed her way in between Travers' legs and laid herself down. Before long, their purr turned to a roar, and the plane began its short climb to jump altitude.

The one downside with the ride up, she always thought, wasn't the roar of the engines on either side of the aircraft-it had actually become quite soothing after a while-but the cramped passenger compartment; given the number of sweaty young men piled in here with their parachutes and gear, it almost felt claustrophobic. If she didn't want to spend the whole time cowering between her handler's legs, like she was now, all she could reasonably do was walk up and down the aisle, being careful not to catch her stowed 'leash', much less her ripcord on anything, and even that wasn't a sure thing.

Ralph's situation was far worse, of course, and that always amused her, but for once, she wasn't giggling at the Malamute's misfortune. No, this time she was thinking only about Kodi; what she wouldn't have given for just a few more seconds with him! Even if she could leap from this plane right now, pull her ripcord and guide herself in for a quick landing back in the loading area, in all likelihood he'd already be airborne by the time she'd hit the ground.

She wondered if she had left him quivering in fear, hiding under a bench and wishing he hadn't left the medical corps. She wondered if he would even try to take her advice; how long it would be before his jumpmaster grabbed him and hurled him bodily out of the plane.

Most of all, she wondered if his handler, whoever it was, would even remember to hook up his 'leash.' Dusty knew all too well the shock of realizing her 'chute hadn't opened automatically, but she usually figured Travers did that to keep her on her claws. Since it looked like Kodi didn't even know what his cord was even _for_ , she could only imagine it would feel ten times as worse.

If they had loaded two Warwolves to a plane instead of just one, she would have gladly gone with Kodi, just to make sure he at least had a decent first jump. Ralph could have stuck with Kirby and maybe could have worked out some middle ground, but somehow, with his bulk, she doubted that was possible. She saw herself leading the crimson husky out the door and into the sky, teaching him every step of the way...

The sudden glare of the red lamp hung next to the exit cut that fantasy short. It was her time to shine now; red light usually meant it was time to squirm out of her hiding spot and get out into the aisle, before Travers and the other humans could squiish her in between them.

"Stand up!"

Dusty did, just as the chalk repeated the jumpmaster's command. She picked a good time to squirm out of her handler's legs, as now she was pressed snout-and-tail between two humans-Travers to her rear, a guy she never bothered to learn the name of to her front.

"Hook up!"

Again, the other paratroopers parroted the command back to their jumpmaster-a mark of months, if not years, of training. Dusty, of course, could not repeat the man's words, not verbally anyway, but she still made a decent effort in her mind.

She looked back at Travers as he finished hooking his parachute's static line up to the ceiling, and kneeled down to grab her own. "Ready, Dust?" he whispered, not expecting an answer this time.

Still, she nodded and returned her gaze to the two lamps at the side of the door, as she felt Travers grab the long leather static line stowed there-a device both handler and dog knew as 'the leash'-and hook it up to the ceiling-or so she thought. This dog-friendly static line offered a great deal of freedom of movement, and did not require human input to be moved down the steel bar that the static lines were hooked to, but at the same time did not require a deliberate jump (or a good push or throw, as she feared Kodi might discover) in order to activate the parachute, for safety reasons.

Dusty was no stranger to actually staying on the plane 'til it was time to jump, of course, but she appreciated the extra layer of safety.

Her mind always skipped over the next couple steps in the jump procedure, simply because she didn't need to do them; Travers always checked everything for her before every jump. Really, she only ever needed to take part in four out of seven; the rest Travers handled for her.

"Sound off for equipment check!"

The soldiers behind her started their final calls-one at a time, each states their readiness. This was the final call; soon the green lamp would be lit, and she would be out in the sky. She could barely keep a lid on her excitement.

She could, of course, because the last time she jumped, Travers had kept her leash stowed. She hadn't suspected this beforehand, thinking it wouldn't happen again, but whatever test he'd intended for her, she'd passed; procedure in that situation involved pulling a ripcord at her right side with her mouth and praying to whatever canine deity that would listen for the parachute to open, because she, like all the other Warwolves, carried no reserve 'chute. Now, she knew to peer up at the ceiling and make damn sure he'd actually hooked her up.

Her vigil was vindicated; the long leather strap (if she could call it that) once stowed safely on her backpack now connected her parachute to the plane itself. Sure, it was an obvious observation, but she had to be sure she wouldn't find herself hurtling towards the ground again.

She was ready.

"Three okay!"

"Two okay!"

"All okay, jumpmaster!"

"Okay, you guys stand by; first jumper, get in the door," the jumpmaster commanded, after peering out of the exit. "Dusty, you okay?"

Two barks. "Yes, sir!"

The green lamp had flashed on before she'd spoken, but the jumpmaster had waited until their Warwolf passenger had given her consent before acknowledging it. "Alright! Go, go, go, go!"

The men in front of her began running towards the door the second the word 'go' had even been uttered the first time, and the first jumper, who'd entered the door at the words 'stand by', was gone basically instantly. Once the man in front of her snout started moving, so too did she.

Don't stop. Don't think. Just go.

Soon she was in the door, and the entire airstrip was laid bare before her-as well as a mass of white parachutes. She almost wanted to stop for just a moment and see if she could spot Ralph from here, but she knew she couldn't.

Don't stop. Don't think. Just go.

So Dusty bounded out and, true to the advice she would've given Kodi, kept her gaze firmly locked on her ripcord, just in case the leash broke-and began to count as she fell towards earth.

"Onethousandtwothousandthreethousa-hurk!"

*FWWUMPH!*

The white dome blossoming up above her head-smaller than Ralph's, way smaller than the humans' own 'chutes-gave her stomach a rude jolt as the straps on her stomach pressed themselves on her ribcage. Whoever packed this thing after the last jump didn't seem to have done a great job, but if anything, at least she didn't have to discover that the hard way. The leash had done its job well. Her parachute had opened safely, and by the look of it, it was just as pristine and smooth as the last time she saw it.

"You've got a good 'chute, Dust!" she could hear Travers confirm from just mere feet above her. Sure, there was no escaping the watchful eye of her handler. But up here, there was nothing telling her what she could and couldn't do.

No, up here? She was free.

Below her was spread the entirety of the airstrip and the rolling hills of this country the brass called 'Great Britain'. Though the snow had melted early and the grass had never been very green since she arrived, she always took time out of her jumps to take in the nature around her. The paths she and Travers took on their occasional hikes were barely visible from up here, but still, she could see them.

Oh, how wonderful it would be to run through this place in peacetime! Alaska would always be her one true home, sure, and it wasn't like they'd be here long, but down there was land untamed by neither dog nor man. Parachuting down towards it from a quarter mile up wasn't the same as actually being there, roughing it on nothing but her own paws; not that this wasn't its own, debatably better experience, of course, but even now, as she floated gently down to the ground once more, she longed for the past, for her sled dog team to be together on more than just a single battlefield. Was this too much to ask?

She sighed after a while, the flapping of her canopy fabric lulling her into a complacent, pensive state. Perhaps it _was_ too much to ask; the enemy, these 'Nazis', would eat them alive if they could. Hopefully, that time would not be soon, but even she could feel the tension growing in the air with each passing day. The real jump, into the place across the sea, was coming. Would she want to jump then, knowing her death could be waiting down below?

It was times like these that she almost wished she could stay in the air. An impossible request, to be sure, but one she could appreciate.

When the husky finally came down, she came down hard, the leather padding on her left side taking the brunt of the impact as she rolled across the pale yellow grass and back onto her paws, where she immediately started pulling back against the still-inflated parachute trying to drag her across the landing zone, her jaws snapping at the canopy collapse toggles on her risers. This demanded both haste and precision; as a paradog, she was more than likely going to land under heavy enemy fire, and this parachute would just slow her down.

The wind had been stronger than usual, but much to her surprise, the canopy had deflated within seconds. The white fabric dropped to the ground, becoming nothing more than a glorifed tarp, as the yellow toggles fell from her agape mouth.

She didn't normally time herself on her landings, but somehow, this felt faster than anything she'd ever done-like a new record of sorts, almost. What began as a surprised chuckle quickly gave way to a fit of giddy laughter, as the usually-stalwart husky leapt and bounced around in excitement.

"Yes! Ha ha!" she shouted. "Beat that, wind!"

Her celebration didn't last long, though, as she remembered why she wanted to be on the ground so badly in the first place. Embarrassed by her sudden and temporary lack of empathy, her ears dropped low as she got to work carefully folding her parachute into a more managable pile for Travers to take care of later-usually with her snout.

But before she could even start on the first fold, disaster struck.

" **DUSTY! LOOK OUT BELOW! GET OUT OF THE WAY!** "

Was that...?

She frantically looked around in search of where that voice had come from, but only found it when it was only about ten feet from the ground-and about five from her face.

"Kodi?!"

Dusty barely had time to process this before the red husky hit the ground, on his side, and started rolling-towards her, completely forgetting the part where he dug his paws into the ground after the first rotation. She wouldn't have enough of it to move; by the time she realized what Kodi was trying to tell her, what would happen next was inevitable.

Kodi crashed right into her, Dusty breaking her teammate's fall with her own body as he knocked her aside and fell flat on his snout. Without anyone to stop its momentum, Kodi's canopy caught up with them quickly, and fell right on top of them-a rare occurrence by any stretch of the imagination, but one that would have surprised no one that was watching.

When the brown husky regained her bearings, the whole world seemed to be veiled in a canvas of white. Shroud lines-to both her and Kodi's 'chutes-criss-crossed the ground, some very close to tangling, others not. Luckily, thanks to Kodi's... ineptitude, she could see where she was going; all the better, since it would be in her best interests not to embarrass herself by getting herself trapped here. Even Kirby could take it as a chance to seize power.

Kodi, on the other paw, was not as fortunate-though he was always an omega compared to Ralph's beta status. Even though this was his own parachute, some of its lines had twisted and tangled themselves around him, holding him back as he thrashed around in what seemed to be a bit of a panic. By the look of it, he'd even gotten one of the risers caught in one of his legs. She could only imagine how this would have looked from the outside.

As she drew closer to his risers, trying to get the collapse toggles pulled so he wouldn't have to face the wind when he got out-if he got out-Dusty noticed that he was actually smiling, a little bit. She couldn't help but do the same; after all, he'd just jumped out of a plane for the first time and lived, something she'd thought nearly unthinkable just minutes ago. Still, she had to ask. "You alright?"

Kodi peered back at her, quelling his attempts to claw his way out so he could get in a good glimpse. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just stuck is all," he chucked nervously. "Glad you're still conscious."

At this, Dusty rolled her eyes, as one of the two collapse toggles came loose and fell to the ground. "It'll take more than that to knock me out," she answered. "Besides, you look like you could use some help."

"...and a few extra jumps," the red husky agreed. "I know what you're gonna say; I suck."

"If you hadn't warned me, yeah, but you did alright, for a first-timer," Dusty replied, before pulling out the last of the collapse toggles. "There, now try to get up. I'll get your 'chute off us."

Kodi nodded and wobbled his way back onto his feet-it was very much slow going, and all these lines certainly weren't helping, but he made it-while Dusty carefully sank her teeth into the canopy, so as not to damage it, and pulled it off to the right.

Light; actual, natural light greeted their eyes as their white nylon shroud fell off to the side. Kodi was a lot more exposed now than she was, but at least help would come faster this way. His tail started wagging upon seeing some of the members of his 'chalk' taking in the awkward scenario in front of them as they ran back into the assembly area-and Jenna as well, who had stayed on the ground to watch his jump, along with the recently-landed Ralph and Kirby.

"See? Wasn't so bad, was it?" Jenna laughed, trying to defuse any embarrassment her son may have brought on herself.

Kodi shook his head, managing to clear his snout of the shroud line that had fallen around it. "Nope!" he happily declared. "Aside from a few... bumps in the road..." He got a quick glare off in Dusty's direction, albeit one that got a toothy smile in response. "...I think I did great!"

"That's our Kodiak!" Ralph chimed in. "You don't let anything get in your way, do you?"

" _Ralph..._ " Kodi groaned. "You don't hear me callin' Aleu 'Aleutian', do you?"

"Oh c'mon, we're at war, right?" the Malamute pleaded. "We've gotta have, like, warnames and stuff! Like, Kodi can be Kodiak, Dusty can be, uh... Airwolf!"

Dusty just laughed. Hey, at least it fit!

Ralph wasn't done, though. "Jenna can be Mercy, 'cause she jumps after us carrying all the medical supplies..."

Jenna giggled, surprised that Ralph had even thought of her that way.

'"And Kirby can be, uh, uh..." He looked down at his lead dog, searching for guidance.

"Kirby is just fine, thanks," said Kirby.

"And I'll be Ralphie, the terror of France and of Germans everywhere!" He tried to get off a howl, only to have his snout forcefully sealed by his own lead dog. "Okay, okay, Ralph, we get it!" he commanded. "Just shut your trap, you're ruining the moment!"

Jenna cleared her throat and turned her attention back to the enshrouded pair. "So, anyway, Kodiak, Airwolf," she continued, much to both their chagrin. "I'm happy you're both alright."

Dusty nodded, pulling some of her teammate's parachute closer to her body with her mouth, like a big blanket, for lack of a better metaphor. She could have left at any time, sure, but since their parachutes could not be detached without human intervention, the likelihood of tangled lines under the canopies keeping them from making any meaningful tracks away from each other was very high. "I wouldn't be optimistic about your son's chances in the Airborne just yet," she said, the pain of impact still fresh in her mind, "but if he wants to stick around, we'll make a good paradog out of him soon enough!"

Kodi shrugged. "Why not? We were a team back home; we were supposed to stick together," he replied. "If _this_ is all I have to do to keep it that way, I'll do whatever it takes."

"Nice; another parachuting dog in the family!"

Everyone turned their heads behind them to identify the source of the voice, and found it in Aleu, herself all geared up and ready to jump, alongside her two handlers, her tongue sticking out of her mouth. Unlike everyone else's 'chutes, hers bore the insignia of the Airborne division's pathfinder corps on its left side. "I go in before you guys do, so you don't have to jump blind!"

"Yeah, yeah, we know," Kodi replied-an idea crossing his mind at the same time. "Just get on the plane, Airwolf; don't wait around on _our_ account!"

That got Dusty and Ralph both laughing-Aleu too, after a bit, and Jenna limited her participation to a few giggles at the irony, but Kirby could only plant paw upon face. "Ha ha, I get it, she's a parachuting wolfdog-but can you _please_ cut it out?" he shouted. "She's got a jump to do, for cryin' out loud!"

Aleu nodded in agreement, and left with only a smile and a wagging tail in her wake. Travers was along after that, and he helped Dusty out of her parachute harness right then and there as Ralph and Kirby headed back to the assembly area, and Jenna began her attempts at freeing Kodi from his own 'chute's shroud lines. "Looks like you found a new friend, huh?" he asked, tussling the fur on her head as they themselves went back to the assembly area for debrief.

"Oh, you don't know the half of it," Dusty would almost certainly have said, if he could only understand what she was saying.

 **A/N: A little side note: I am aware of the historical inaccuracies within this story. As far as I'm aware, only seven (eight, if you count a border collie by the name of Rob, but that one is probably a hoax) parachuting dogs served in World War II on the front line, all of them German Shepherds from British Commonwealth states. The United States did train Siberian Huskies to jump out of aircraft; however, they were never employed on the front-line, as far as I know, and thus never actually got to do their jobs. Also, those dogs probably didn't have a means to open their parachute in the event of static line failure, sad to say. Still, this sort of stuff is fun to think about.**

 **Anyway, that about covers it! Curious to see what you all think; posting in a new archive is always interesting.**


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